


say you’ll never (let me go)

by padaholic_316



Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Author Projecting Via Fanfiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grieving, Hurt Scott Hoying, I have no idea if Scott even has aunts uncles or cousins, I mean if you wanna read it with ship goggles be my guest, Implied/Referenced Character Death, I’m giving Scott my problems, Kinda, Mentions of Cancer, Minor Character Death, Original Character Death(s), Platonic Scomiche, Protective Mitch Grassi, Scott/Mitch friendship, Scott/Mitch portrayed like real life, Sorry Scott, ambiguous timeline, and the entire premise of this fic is that she dies while they’re away on tour, basically I made up a cousin for Scott, but my intention was, no resemblance to real life intended, rated T for heavy subject matter and a handful of swears, that’s uncommon in this fandom I know, the aunt and uncle mentioned are also OCs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:53:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/padaholic_316/pseuds/padaholic_316
Summary: “Honey, Tiana just passed away.”Everything screeches to a halt.or:Scott wakes up to some really horrible news while on tour with Pentatonix, far away from home.
Relationships: Mitch Grassi & Scott Hoying, Platonic Scomiche - Relationship, Scomiche - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	say you’ll never (let me go)

**Author's Note:**

> Title of work taken from the song Roses by the Chainsmokers ft. Rozes (parentheses added by yours truly) 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of cancer, description of minor original character death due to cancer, main character grieving and dealing with death of a loved one. I don’t know for sure what might trigger people so I thought I’d warn for pretty much everything, just in case. 
> 
> (TW for Author’s Note: COVID-19, death, grieving)  
> My grandmother passed away from complications of COVID-19 a week ago today. I’m living 2+ hours away from my family, so while I did go down for the tiny, immediate-family-only wake (no funeral/burial service), now that I’m back home I’m grieving by myself, and projecting my problems via fic seems to be the only outlet I have that makes me feel any better. 
> 
> This work is set in a nebulous (possibly fictional) timeline. I did not do any research on when and where past PTX world tours have been, I just wanted them to be far enough away that Scott would not be able to get home for the funeral or properly grieve with his family, so that I could project my issues onto him. (Sorry, Scotty, I really do love you, I promise!) The cousin, Tiana, and the uncle and aunt, Rob and Carol, are characters I invented, with no research done into Scott’s real extended family. Any odd details, like the 8 am thing, are also made up for storyline purposes. I also have no idea if the type of cancer I described is even a real thing. Again, I just kind of skipped over the details that weren’t central to projecting my problems onto Scott. 
> 
> This story will NOT contain any references to the actual current global health situation or to COVID-19. I am trying to (somewhat indirectly) work through grief, not stress myself out even more by bringing real current events into my fictional world. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Pentatonix, as a band and as the individual members (and their families and friends), belong to themselves, not me. Same goes for their music and their lives. Events described here are fictional, and any similarity to real life is purely coincidental and unintentional.

~•~•~•~

Scott isn’t sure, for a second, what just woke him up. When he realizes it’s his ringtone, that someone’s calling him, a jolt of adrenaline instantly wakes him fully, and he jackknifes upright to grab his phone. _Shit, I must be late for something, the only time a phone call ever wakes me up is when I’m late and someone’s calling to yell at me, fuck -_

It takes a second for him to register two things. First, he _knows_ he doesn’t have any meetings or anything scheduled for this morning, he was specifically telling Mitch and Kevin last night how nice it was gonna be to sleep in today, and Kevin would’ve corrected him if he was wrong, he’s always super on top of all their schedules and shit.

The second thing is that the name displayed on his caller ID... is Mom.

His _mom_?

Now he’s just confused. Connie Hoying is almost obsessive about keeping up with the time zones of where Pentatonix is touring, so she must know it’s - he squints at his phone - 6:23 am in Tokyo right now. He feels nerves start to stir in his stomach as he swipes to accept the call - something _must_ be wrong, for her to be knowingly waking him up by calling this early. Even on their earliest days, they don’t have to get up until 8 on these international tours, to combat the jet lag. And he knows she knows that, too.

“Hey, mom,” he murmurs, stifling a yawn. “What’s up?”

There’s silence on the other end of the line for a second, just long enough that Scott almost asks if she’s there, before the reply comes. “Hi Scottie,” she half-whispers, and she’s clearly choked up, _what the hell, what’s wrong,_ and he’s on his feet before he even realizes he’s gotten up.

“Mom, what is it?” He has to consciously keep his voice low, as Mitch is in the room next door, and if living with him for five-plus years has taught Scott anything, it’s that the tenor is an incredibly light sleeper. “Is everyone okay?”

The hesitation - again - that precedes the reply ratchets Scott’s concern levels through the roof. If everyone _was_ okay, she would be reassuring him of that immediately. The fact that she _isn’t_...

A sniffle, then: “Honey, Tiana just passed away.”

Everything screeches to a halt.

_Oh, God._

He barely registers falling back heavily onto the edge of the bed. Barely hears his mom’s tearful explanation through the ringing in his ears. He’d known this was a possibility, eventually, they all had, but he’d thought she’d been doing _better_ lately, how could this just...

His cousin Tiana, just a year younger than him, had been one of his best friends in early childhood. Connie had always been close with her brother, Scott’s uncle Rob, and that closeness quickly extended to Tiana and Scott. They’d lived near each other, grown up together, were damn near inseparable until maybe middle school. She’d told him, once they were both in their twenties, that she knew he was gay _long_ before he figured it out himself, and she’d always been so intuitive and good at reading people that he has never doubted that for a second, no matter how closeted he’d been back then. Tiana had always wanted to be a psychologist; she’d figured that was the best way for her to use her people skills to do the most good and help people who needed it. She’d been in her senior year of college, three years ago, when she’d been diagnosed with a rare, very aggressive form of leukemia and had been forced to drop out to focus on her treatment and recovery. She had beaten it once, finished her bachelor’s and even started her master’s, but the cancer had come back late last year. All signs lately had been pointing to her kicking cancer’s ass a second time, though, and now she’s just... _gone_?

Scott dimly registers his mom telling him that apparently nobody saw this coming, it all happened in the span of about 24 hours, she’d contracted a severe viral infection and declined _so_ quickly, none of her extended family - Connie and Rick included - was even able to make it up to Chicago to the hospital to be there like they’d wanted to be if that day ever came. Her parents were there, at least. But this is a massive shock, for everyone.

His mom is still talking, something about how the funeral will be in Arlington, of course, since they’d only been in Chicago for the cancer treatments - only a few hospitals in the country had extensive experience with this type of leukemia and Tiana’s parents had wanted the best care possible for her, obviously - _God_ , what Uncle Rob and Aunt Carol most be going through right now, Scott can’t even imagine.

He... honestly is probably in shock. He doesn’t really feel... _anything_ right now, and physically he feels pretty numb, too. He isn’t sure he could move if he tried.

Somehow, he wraps up the call with his mom. She’s sobbing as she tells him she loves him “so, so much, sweetie,” and he’s actually a little surprised to find his throat tightening as he tells her he loves her too. He’s still in that same weird state of physical and emotional numbness, which is probably why he can’t remember how he winds up outside Mitch’s hotel room door.

He raises his hand to knock, but stops, fist hovering in midair. It’s still so early, not even 7 am, and Mitch always gets really mad when he’s woken up early without good reason...

...but this is a good reason, right? He really needs his best friend right now. But this situation also isn’t going to change anytime in the next several hours, so maybe he should just let Mitch sleep...

He starts to turn away, but stops in his tracks as a realization suddenly crashes into him like a ton of bricks.

He won’t be able to be at the funeral.

They’ve just started the Japan leg of the tour, they’re only two shows in and still have almost a dozen more to go, and that’s not even counting the Philippines and Australia after that. Sure, he and Tiana have always been close, but that doesn’t mean her parents are about to delay the entire grieving process for, like, a month just for him. Unless PTX cancels like a week’s worth of shows to allow him to fly back to Texas, which there’s no way in hell is going to happen, they’ve all been sold out for months...

He won’t be able to say goodbye.

And just like that, he’s on the verge of tears. Before he really even makes the conscious decision to, he’s knocking, loudly, on Mitch’s door. He gives it about ten seconds, knowing Mitch is intentionally ignoring him (the Do Not Disturb sign is on his doorknob, to be fair), then tries again, for a little longer this time. Finally, he hears muffled shuffling and grumbling from inside, and about fifteen seconds later, Mitch yanks the door open. “What the _hell_ , Scott, it’s not even seven in the fucking morning and we don’t even have to _be_ anywhere until-“ The brunette pauses, and his eyes widen as he sees the state his best friend is in. “Scott, oh my God, what’s wrong?”

Scott finds himself needing to take a few deep breaths before he’s able to croak out, “Tiana died,” and then he has to shove a hand over his mouth, to keep the sobs in, as his face crumples.

Mitch looks like someone just punched him in the gut. “Oh my _God_ , Scott, I am _so sorry_ ,” he breathes. “Come here, honey, come here,” and he guides Scott to his bed, gently shutting the door behind them. “I am so, _so_ sorry, Scottie,” he whispers, as Scott’s shoulders begin to shake with his near-silent crying. Mitch sits them both down on the bed and pulls Scott’s head down into his shoulder, holding him close. “Let it out, honey, it’s okay,” he whispers.

And the dam breaks.

Scott sobs, loud and painful, and all Mitch can do is hold his best friend close as he falls apart in his arms.  
  
  


~•~•~•~

**Author's Note:**

> There will probably end up being a second chapter of this, but there is a chance I won’t finish that one, so I’m going to mark this as complete for now. This ending may be unsatisfying, but it’s pretty accurate to how I’m feeling right now, so. Yeah. 
> 
> If you’re feeling down, or if you’re grieving alone like I am, please reach out to family, friends, and loved ones for support. Even if you’re doing okay, stay in touch with those you care about. We all need that connection now more than ever. Stay safe everyone ❤️


End file.
